


Paper Lanterns

by anastasiapullingteeth



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-10 14:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasiapullingteeth/pseuds/anastasiapullingteeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is an attractive art teacher, Jehan couldn’t stand a chance</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> That time Sami and I took quite seriously the post "true friendship is making up headcanons together and crying".
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://anastasiapullingteeth.tumblr.com/post/75821322218/pairing-jehan-grantaire-rating-pg-13)

Jehan was happy with the courses of that semester: Renaissance Literature, Themes of European Culture and his favorite, History and Appreciation of Art. Excitedly, he entered the room and smiled to find out he shared the class with Cosette. He pulled out a beautiful, brown notebook with strings of purple flowers in the margins and began to write while waiting for the professor to arrive.

"Morning, class." A deep and rasped voice forced Jehan’s head up and he almost fell off his chair. Before him was the most attractive man Jehan had ever seen: he didn’t look much older than him -just a few years-, sported a mop of thick black curls over his forehead and had some scars on his face; his eyes were black and his nose and jaw were slightly crooked to the right. He was casually dressed with a green flannel shirt that matched his Converse and jeans. It was just beautiful.

"Please call me Grantaire. Nothing of ’sir’ or that kind of crap, okay? 'Sir' and I'll fail you." The professor, Grantaire, smiled crookedly and Jehan knew he was lost.

 

* * *

 

"Hello, everyone. Today we’ll talk about van Gogh." Grantaire placed a picture of the famous self-portrait in the projector and turned off the lights. "Surely you all know at least one painting of this man. And I could bet you a drink that painting is _Starry Night_." The whole class laughed loudly. 

"Anyway, he was one of the most important figures in the Post-impressionism, although his work wasn’t recognized until many years after his death." He then projected another painting that Jehan recognized as _Sunflowers_. "As he himself used to say, van Gogh was not trying to reproduce exactly what he saw, but made an arbitrary use of color to express himself more properly."

Grantaire put on another transparency, and leaned on his desk, a small smile playing on his lips. Jehan had never seen him like this. It was true Grantaire loved art with every fiber of his being, that pretty much was obvious, but apparently van Gogh was his favorite painter. His arms moved across his chest as if his hands were trying to replicate the paint in the air. It was like watching an orchestra director presenting his masterpiece to the world for the first time.

“That’s Bedroom in Arles.” he continued. “As you can see, this room was supposed to be trapezoidal, although van Gogh was very obviously not stopped with this problem, he simply stated that there was a corner there… somehow.” Some giggles escaped from the back of the room. “He cared more for the color and gave just the illusion of space.”

Grantaire changed the transparency one last time, projecting Starry Night. ”As many of you know, the painter suffered from severe mental disorders, and many claim that this influenced his most famous works. Starry Night here was painted in a mental asylum in Saint-Remy, a year before van Gogh died…” The teacher trailed at the end of the sentence, his eyes fixed on the painting and Jehan saw his chance to speak.

"Wasn’t the Impressionism what prompted a change in van Gogh, though? It was after that that he used lighter colors and devoted himself to landscapes and self-portraits."

Grantaire’s head turned in surprise; it seemed he had forgotten he was teaching a class and had at least 20 students listening. His eyes were fixed on the blond and Jehan blushed. ”Your name?“

"Jean Prouvaire."

"Hmmm. You seem to know a lot about van Gogh, don’t you?" Jehan was nervous, the least he wanted was to upset Grantaire.

"I- actually I don’t, I prefer the artists of the Impressionism." The last syllables came out in a whisper.

Grantaire smiled and turned on the light between the muffled complaints of the students. “Any favorite?“

"Degas and Monet."

"The initiator and the self-proclaimed ‘realist’. Interesting taste of yours, young Prouvaire."

"Jehan… call me Jehan."

Grantaire grinned wider and returned to teach the lesson. “Now, about that drink…”

 

* * *

 

The following weeks were spent more or less the same. Grantaire would begin presenting a painting to the class and explaining the artist’s style, while the students wrote in their notebooks. Jehan would say some comments regarding the author’s vision and how it influenced their art and he and Grantaire would engage in an intense debate about color theory or the presence of light and shadow, in front of the watchful eyes of the rest of class. At the end of the lesson, Grantaire would pat Jehan’s back on his way out, always with a hearty ”Good job, Jehan. See you next class.” The blond would blush slightly as he adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. 

Two months after school started, while watching a documentary on Monet, Grantaire handed him a slip of paper. The teacher was standing next to his desk and once the lights were off, he walked quietly to Jehan’s seat and left a piece of folded paper on the table. Jehan send him a questioning look, but Grantaire only pointed at the piece of paper, winked once and walked back to his desk. Jehan gulped and read the message.

_~ stay at the end of the class? need to talk to you ~_

Jehan‘s heart skipped a beat in his chest. Why would he want to talk to him? He saw around him quickly, trying to guess if someone had noticed he was blushed, until he remembered the lights were off. When the class ended, Jehan collected his things but didn’t rise from his seat.

"Are you coming?" Cosette asked from the doorway.

"Uhm, yeah, go ahead. I’m coming."

When the last student left the classroom, Grantaire cleared his throat. ”Thanks for staying, I hope I haven’t ruined your plans.“

"No, no, it’s okay." The blond finally left his seat and was standing in front of Grantaire. "Uhm, what… what do you need?"

"A favor," Grantaire replied with a nervous laugh. "See, in 15 days, I have to… do this very important thing and I won’t be here for the third period class… And, uh , I heard somewhere you were free at that time? So… you think you could cover me?"

Jehan blinked a few times, putting aside the empty feeling in his stomach. “What?” he asked stupidly.

"Yeah, hmmm, it’s… I can’t give you many details but I really need you to cover me… You have an impressive level in matters of art and, well… I thought you could help me…" Grantaire bit his lip, waiting for an answer that never came. "But if you can’t it’s fine! I’ll manage."

"Wait, no… I mean, yes, I’ll help you. If you think I can do it."

"You can, you really can. I owe you one."

Jehan knew that was his cue to go, but he didn’t want to miss this chance. He took his backpack strap tightly and said, “And… you always wanted to be a teacher?“

"What?"

"It’s just… you seem to enjoy this job."

"Oh, well,  not really." Grantaire stared out of the window. "This is a fucking nightmare... I wanted to be an artist, y’know. But, unfortunately, that’s not enough for a living, so I had to go with this. And, to be completely honest, I’ve never had a reason to believe this job was worth it. Until now." Grantaire ended with a smile, his eyes fixed on Jehan. The boy swallowed loudly, whispered goodbye and strode out of the room.

 

* * *

 

That Tuesday, Cosette caught him in the hallway after class and hung at his arm.

"I think it’s adorable, you know?" She said in a soft voice, looking at him askance.

"The what?"

"Your crush with Grantaire, of course."

Jehan put a hand on his friend‘s mouth instinctively and looked behind him to make sure no one had heard her. When his brain worked again, he let Cosette go and cleared his throat.

"I- I don’t know what you mean."

"Oh, come on, Jehan! You can’t fool me… No one, actually."

"Oh, my god! Am I that obvious?" he asked alarmed.

"I don’t think he knows, if that’s what you’re worried about."

"What I’m going to do?"

"Ask him out."

"No, I can’t!"

"Yes you can. There’s a display at the Orsay Museum on Saturday, why don’t you invite him?"

Jehan considered it for a moment. It didn’t seem a bad idea. They were kinda friends, weren’t they?

 

* * *

 

The next class, the blond waited until the rest of the people left the room and, after receiving an encouraging smile from Cosette, approached the professor’s desk. Grantaire was packing his things, shaking his bag to make them fit better.

Cosette had insisted it was a good idea to invite the teacher to the display, and Jehan would do everything in his power to go with him… all out to expand his knowledge, of course. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"Oh, hello Jehan. Why are you still here? Is Friday, go to party with your friends." Grantaire smiled that lovely way that made Jehan’s legs shake.

"I, uh, I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure, what’s up?"

"I wanted to know if you… uhm, you had plans this weekend. There’s an exhibition at the Orsay Museum that I think you would like and I thought we could go together… If that’s okay…"

"Oh, wow, uh... I’m sorry, Jehan, I have another engagement-"

"No, no. It’s fine."

"Another time, maybe?"

"Sure, sure. I, uh, I gotta go. G’bye."

Jehan strode out of the room and almost collided with Cosette who was waiting in the hallway. The boy could feel the heat spread across his face.

"Cosette, this is your fault." He whispered taking his friend’s hand and pulling her down the hall. "I don’t know how you convinced me to do this!"

"But he said another time-"

"Were you spying on us?"

"… No."

"Well, it doesn’t matter.It’s not like I just embarrassed myself in front of a teacher, right?" Jehan snorted and thrust his hands in his pockets.

"What’d you say if we go to the exhibition? Just you and me, that'll make you feel better."

"No. I’m going to lock myself in my room and wait for the world to end."

"Come on, don't be ridiculous. Come with me to the museum, I need someone to tell me interesting facts of the life and work of these artists." Cosette pouted and Jehan rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I’ll go with youuuuu." The blonde took his arm and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

 

* * *

 

"This is … _L’Absinthe_ by Degas."

"I cann't believe the critics thought this painting was ugly. Just look at it! The expression on their faces… She, totally oblivious to the world around her, lost in her own thoughts…" Jehan spoke enthusiastically, causing astonishment in Cosette. The poet had been somewhat quiet when they arrived at the museum, probably still disappointed by what had happened with Grantaire, but as soon as they began to move through the exhibition, his mood improved.

"Oh, did you know she’s Ellen Andrée? She was an actress of the nineteenth century, and often modeled for Degas and Renoir-" Jehan stopped mid-sentence, his eyes fixed on a point behind Cosette.

"What?"

"Grantaire… Grantaire’s over there… Oh, my god, Grantaire’s over there!"

The blonde turned on her heel. Down the hall was Grantaire in front  of a painting with a smile playing on his lips. “Why are you still here? Go say hi!” Cosette screamed as she pushed the blond.

Jehan tried to fight the pushing, but a part of him really wanted to talk to the teacher. When he was only two feet away, a firm voice reached his ears.

"Ah, there you are. I didn’t realize you’ve stopped." A man with long blond hair, sharp nose and deep blue eyes reached Grantaire and put a hand on his lower back. Jehan tried to go back the way he had come, but wasn’t fast enough.

"Jehan? Nice to see you here! Come on, I want you to meet someone. Enjolras, this is Jehan, remember? One of my students?" The boy tried to smile as he reached out to shake the blond’s hand, but had a bad feeling about this. "Jehan, this is Enjolras, my, uh…"

"I’m his boyfriend, nice to finally meet you."

His boyfriend.

Grantaire had a boyfriend, of course he had a boyfriend.

Jehan tried to control his breathing and smiled again, even when he felt a lump forming in his throat. “… Nice to meet you.”

"Are you alone?" Grantaire asked, seeing into the hallway from where Jehan had come. "You can come with us if you want. I was going to tell you that on Friday but didn’t know if Enjolras was okay with it, so, sorry."

"Don’t worry, I’m here with Cosette." Jehan pointed at his friend, that waved her hand still standing near _L’Absinthe_. "Thanks anyway, I have to go now. See ya, it was a pleasure."

Jehan walked quickly toward the exit without waiting for a word from the couple and passed by where Cosette was. The only thing he cared about at that moment was to get home and forget everything.

 

* * *

 

The following Tuesday, Jehan wasn’t present at the class. It was the first time in his life he skipped a lesson and that bothered him a little, but just couldn’t summon the strength to see Grantaire, not after the incident at the Museum, not yet.

He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t that bad. Everyone skipped a class from time to time, there’s nothing to worry about. Grantaire told him a few weeks ago that he used to spend more time in the gardens than in the classroom when he was Jehan’s age.

The poet bit his lower lip until it hurt. No, no, no, he couldn’t keep thinking of Grantaire. But no matter what he did, the teacher always reappeared in his mind. He hid himself better among the branches of the great tree he had climbed, his favorite around the yard, and pulled out his notebook.

That Friday, Jehan was absent again. That was the day he had to cover Grantaire and, since he’d never talked to him about the details, he decided that the teacher’d have to fend for himself.

What could it be that oh so important thing that Grantaire had to do? Surely something special with Enjolras. Maybe an anniversary dinner. He probably didn't even noticed Jehan wasn't there the previous two classes and he'd never ask Cosette about him, why would he?

Maybe Grantaire was angry with him.

Maybe he didn’t even want to be his friend anymore.

 

* * *

 

The following Tuesday, he made it to the class room, but chickened out at the last moment and ran into the back garden, to his tree, where he could see Grantaire’s slightly worried face through the window.

Cosette met him over lunch. Jehan had behaved evasively with her that morning when she asked if he would attend class, and the poet could tell Cosette hadn’t wanted to push him. Now he felt bad for treating her that way.

"Guess what," the blonde asked while eating some pudding. "People in the art course have asked me about you." Jehan said nothing. "Everybody's kinda worried and I didn’t know what to say besides you were sick. Though that’s not true."

"Hey, guys."

Bahorel and Éponine sat opposite them at the table, so Jehan ended the conversation. Something in Cosette's face told him there was something else she wanted to say.

When the four were on their way home, Cosette took his hand. She didn’t stop throwing strange looks at him, as if Jehan suffered from a terminal illness and was not aware of it.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, why do you ask?" She answered quickly. Too quickly. 

"You keep looking at me as if I were about to faint or something."

"Oh, Jehan. I don’t know if I should tell you this but… Hmmm…"

Jehan thought he knew what it was all about. “Just say it.”

"… Grantaire asked me about you." The boy clenched his jaw. When she saw her friend wasn’t going to say anything, the blonde continued. "I told him you were sick but… but apparently he spoke to your literature teacher and he said you’ve never been absent…"

Of course, trust Feuilly to be the most honest teacher of the whole damn campus.

"He was concerned, Jehan. Like really worried. And I know what I said didn’t reassured him at all. Maybe it means-"

"No, Cosette. It means nothing." Cosette nodded sadly.

Jehan looked away. His hands had started shaking and couldn’t get out the stupid idea that he still had a chance with Grantaire. “What if?” replayed in his mind over and over again.

_What if?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this should've been updated a lot sooner.
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://anastasiapullingteeth.tumblr.com/post/76393500581/pairing-jehan-grantaire-rating-pg-13)
> 
> * * *

"Are you going to class today? " Cosette asked in a whisper. The girl was standing next to Jehan's locker, watching him pulled out a couple of books and threw them in his backpack.

"No." he said in a clipped tone.

"You can't avoid him forever, you know?"

"I'm not avoiding him, I just... don't want to see him right now."

"Jehan, please, you have to-"

"Jehan?" The blond tightened in place. He knew that voice perfectly, no need to turn around to see who it was. "Jehan, hi, I'm so happy to see you. Can we talk for a minute?"

Jehan closed his eyes. After a while, when he resigned it was too late to run away, he turned to face Grantaire. The teacher gave him a half smile and the expression on Jehan's face softened a bit. It wasn't his fault, after all.

"I leave you both. See you later, Jehan." Cosette waved goodbye and Grantaire took a further step towards Jehan.

"What happened to you, man? Have been weeks since you last came to class. Are you all right?"

"... I'm great." The boy tried to smile but it was difficult, having Grantaire so close to him. He hadn't meant to fall in love -oh, god, he was in love, wasn't he- with the teacher, but there were so many things he liked about him: his love for art, his sense of humor, the passion with which he clung to his convictions even when he said he had none. Jehan could see there was more beneath that mask of cynicism the professor insisted on carrying. And he had been a fool to believe he'd have a chance, but it was too late for regrets.

"... and I was so worried about you." Jehan came back to reality and realized he had lost more than a half of the things Grantaire had said.

"Listen, if this is about the class that I'd cover you-"

"Jehan, stop it. I was worried about _you_. I, uh, I missed you."

"... What?"

"Yeah, I mean, you're my best student, it gets boring when you're not there to argue." Grantaire chuckled and didn't notice how Jehan's face darkened.

_You're only another student, just face it. When the school year's over, he'll forget about you._

Jehan gulped, trying to ignore that voice in his head. "I... I gotta go." the boy took two steps away from Grantaire when a firm hand stopped him by the arm.

"Wait, you're coming back to class, right?"

"Sure" He was willing to say anything just to get away from him.

"Okay, see you then."

Jehan ran to the bathroom and locked himself in a cubicle. He didn't want to cry, not for something like this. He folded the sleeve of his sweater and ran a finger around the area where he could still feel Grantaire's warm grip.

He closed his eyes trying to keep the tears inside them and squeezed his arm tightly, digging his nails until thin red lines were marked on the pale skin. He'd failed to draw blood but it was fine, he could already see the bruises forming on his arm. He took a deep breath, settled his sleeve back in place and left the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

Cosette sat next to him under the tree and looked disapprovingly to the cigarette he was holding between his lips, but said nothing. Jehan was writing in his brown notebook and didn't stop even when Cosette began to speak.

"You did very well to return to classes, you were about to lose the year."

"Hmmm."

"But... you were really quiet. Grantaire didn't stop looking at you almost begging you to say something."

"I had nothing to say." he shrugged.

"Of course... Hey, you know what we should do? Go to a party." Jehan dropped his pen but didn't look up from his notebook. "Marius just invited me to a party his friends are throwing. You should come with us."

"I don't feel like being the third wheel."

"You won't be the third wheel. Besides, there'll be a lot of people in there, you'll find someone to have fun with." The blond snorted. "Please Jehan. I don't want to see you like this..."

Jehan put out his cigarette on the soles of his Converse, kissed her on the cheek and smiled.

"Okay, I guess I can do that."

 

* * *

 

Marius was a young lawyer in the firm of Monsieur Valjean, Cosette's father. He and the blonde had met the day Marius took home some papers for Valjean and were madly in love with each other since then. Jehan suspected Cosette's father only approve of the relationship because somehow he had Marius's career in his hands. But the lawyer was a sweet and charming soul and had no objections to Jehan coming along.

After Marius picked them up at Cosette's house, the three entered the apartment where the party was well underway. The place was considerably large, Jehan wouldn't have problems to get lost in there when Marius and Cosette ... well, decided to ignore him.

"Courfeyrac should be here..." Marius said, scanning the room. "Ah, there he is."

"My friend Pontmercy, you're finally here!" A man roughly the same age than Marius approached them. His wavy brown hair was tousled and was wearing neon green glasses with star shape. "Oh, I see you brought beautiful and lovely Cosette."

"Flattery will get you _nowhere_ , Courf. Dad's not here."

"I'm just telling the truth." The man, Courfeyrac, removed his glasses and looked fixedly to Jehan. "And who is this attractive young man?"

At any other time, Jehan'd have played shy, but just didn't feel like doing it. He half smiled and extended his hand to shake the brunet's. "Jean Prouvaire."

Courfeyrac smiled and took his time to release the blond's hand.

"Come in, you're at home. Drinks are over there. Have fun!" Courfeyrac approached Jehan and whispered in his ear. "And, if you need anything, Jean Prouvaire, do not hesitate to _come_  to me."

"Yeah." Jehan rolled his eyes and walked deeper into the apartment, looking for something to drink.

 

* * *

 

Jehan was on his third beer when Courfeyrac approached him again. Cosette and Marius had forgot about him long ago, engaged in kissing and cuddling in one of the armchairs, so Jehan decided to tour the apartment. He was in one of the corridors leading to the bathroom when the brunet appeared at his side .

"And... Tell me, where do you know Marius from?"

"Nowhere, I go to school with Cosette."

Courfeyrac's smile faltered a little. "Oh... Uh, how old-, how old you say you are?"

"Twenty."

"Oh, that's great, wonderful. Uhm, you needed something? The bathroom is there and over there," he pointed down the hall, "are the bedrooms. I live with two friends, Combeferre and Enjolras, but mine is the one on the left-."

"Wait, did you say 'Enjolras'?"

"Yeah, why?"

Jehan shook his head gently. It couldn't be the same guy, though it wasn't a very common name... But what were the odds?

Without another word, he went back to the kitchen for another beer and saw when the front door opened, giving way to two men. One of them wore glasses and was loosening his tie, the other had blond hair and deep blue eyes.

It was Enjolras, Grantaire's boyfriend.

Jehan dropped the bottle and ran to the bathroom. Suddenly, he wanted to throw up.

 

* * *

 

Jehan stopped in the hallway when he saw a couple had just entered the bathroom. He had no other place to go and still didn't feel comfortable enough to go to one of the bedrooms. Unfortunately, his moment of indecision gave Enjolras enough time to walk up to him and place a hand on his shoulder.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" Jehan raised his head and looked at the man in front of him. "Of course! Now I remember. You're ... Jehan, right? We met at the museum."

The boy nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

"What a ... coincidence to see you here."

"I know. Grantaire wanted to come too, but ... it was better he didn't. He's at home right now, I'll meet him in a while."

"Well, nice to see you." Jehan lied, trying to go back to the living room, but Enjolras followed closely.

"You know? Grantaire talks a lot about you." Enjolras said and Jehan suddenly forgot how to breathe for a second.

"He does?"

"Oh yes, he can't stop talking about how much you know about art and painters and stuff. One night, I had to listen to him complaining for an hour about how you express yourself when you disagree with him. I think he was more upset because he couldn't decide whether he loved it or hated it." Enjolras laughed, probably recalling the moment he just told. "I had to meet the young man able to bring a real debate with my boyfriend." Enjolras smiled showing his perfect white teeth, but Jehan had stopped listening.

Knowing that Grantaire actually spoke of him with his boyfriend only widened the ache in his chest. The same ache he'd tried to ignore since that day at the museum but still being present at any moment.

He apologized to Enjolras in the most polite way he could manage and strode through the apartment in search of Cosette. The girl's still in the same armchair where he'd last seen her. He approached her and took her hand, leading her into the kitchen. Marius just watched them without saying a word.

"Would you care to explain why didn't you tell me Enjolras lived here? Or, better yet, Grantaire's boyfriend works for your father?"

"I... didn't know? Is Enjolras Grantaire's boyfriend? I'd heard the name before but I've never seen the guy. Besides, you never told me what was his name!" Cosette cried defensively. When she noticed his friend looked a little agitated, she finally understood. "Oh, my god! Enjolras is here, isn't he?"

"Actually yes, I just had a lovely chat with him."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. Listen, we'll go home now, okay?"

"No, you know what? I think I'll stay a little longer." Jehan narrowed his eyes and took another beer from the table. "Yes, I think I'll follow your advice and find someone to have fun with." The blond walked into the room, getting lost in the crowd.

Cosette tried to stop him, but Marius held her by the waist. "Leave him, he knows what he's doing."

"I hope so..."

 

* * *

 

Jehan  tried every drink offered, and even a joint someone handed him. He wasn't used to it, so his head began to feel heavy very quickly and his vision was a little blurry, but it wasn't enough. He took the bottle nex to him and took a sip without bothering to get a cup.

"Wow, wow. Easy, boy. Leave something for the others."

Courfeyrac snatched the bottle and put it on a table away from the blond. His hair was more tousled than before, his shirt was almost completely open and there was no trace of the glasses anywhere.

Without thinking twice, Jehan grabbed his neck and kissed him hard. Courfeyrac smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms around his waist to bring him closer. The kiss was hot and wet, and had a strong taste of alcohol. When they broke away, Courfeyrac panted in his ear.

"Bed? Now?"

Jehan nodded and began to pull him to the bedrooms, stopping occasionally to kiss him again. Courfeyrac pushed him against the corridor wall and tuck a hand under his shirt to stroke his back with his cold fingers, causing a groan from Jehan. With some effort and a hand gripping his hip, the brunet broke away from Jehan and opened the door.

Jehan leaned over him on the bed and attacked his neck with hungry kisses. Courfeyrac spread his hands to take off Jehan's shirt and his eyes stopped briefly in the marks and scratches that covered his arms, but made no comment. His fingers then headed to Jehan's pants, where a bulge in his crotch denoted his excitement, but the blond stopped him.

"What, what's wrong?"

He couldn't do it.

It wasn't fair to Courfeyrac, not when his mind kept evoke two large eyes as black as the uncontrollable curls that adorned the head of certain teacher.

Jehan got off the bed and adjusted his clothes, looking totally clueless. His breathing was shallow when he found his shirt and pulled it with trembling fingers.

Courfeyrac saw him with concern, stood next to him and rubbed his back reassuringly. "Are you alright? Breathe with me, okay? That's it. Need to take you home?"

"No, no, I'm fine. I, uh, sorry. Really, I can't... I'd better go."

"Relax, everything's fine."

Jehan looked at him one last time and quickly left the room.

 

* * *

 

In their haste to leave, Jehan hit someone who was passing in the hallway. His head spun and Enjolras held him tightly to prevent him from falling. He bent a little to look into his eyes and said, "Jehan, what happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I-" Only then he realized Enjolras was tall... Very tall. "Wow, you're so tall... And handsome. That's why Grantaire's in love with you. 'nd you're inhumanly clever, I mean, you work with Valjean. He's a genius. And y're very handsome. Did said handsome? 's that y're really attractive. And... gold." He knew he was babbling, but couldn't stop.

He gripped Enjolras's shoulder more firmly and continued. "You're perfect, y'know. I don't have a chance." Enjolras frowned. "Why're you lookin' at me? I thought you knew, everybody knows. Doesn't matter anyway, I'm so in love with Grantaire. I know, Grantaire, y'r boyfriend. 's funny, right? But he's with you and I just left Courfeyrac half naked in his bedroom 'cause I couldn't do it..."

Jehan continued babbling unintelligible things quietly. Enjolras shook his head and dragged him toward the front door where Cosette and Marius were. Jehan waved his hand stupidly and Cosette gasped.

"You're Cosette, right? " He heard Enjolras said. "I think he's drunk, but he'll be fine."

Between Marius and Cosette dragged him out of the house; the last thing Jehan heard before passing out was Enjolras voice on the phone.

"'Aire? Yeah, hi... Uh, Jehan's here..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end, my friends. I hope this isn't too disappointing.
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://anastasiapullingteeth.tumblr.com/post/76780906993/pairing-jehan-grantaire-rating-pg-13)

Jehan woke up with a horrible headache. He rubbed his temples and tried to swallow, but his throat was really dry. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light that filled the room, he realized something important: he wasn't in his bed.

He looked around, trying to identify the place, but didn't recognize anything. The room was almost empty except for a desk  near the bed and a large vase with daffodils in the corner. The blond closed his eyes, forcing his brain to remember what had happened: the party, the alcohol, the pot, Courfeyrac... Oh god, Courfeyrac!

The poet hopped up out the bed, but had to hold onto the wall after the dizziness that had caused the sudden movement. He didn't remember seeing anything like that in the room the night before, but of course, it's not like he was really worried about the furniture.

Someone knocked on the door and Jehan had to sit back down on the bed. His voice trembled a little when he said "Come in..."

"Hello, dear. How're you feeling?" Cosette entered the room, holding a tray with a glass of water and two aspirin. She sat next to him in the mess of sheets and brought the tray close to him. "You look very pale."

"Where am I?"

"My house. This is the guest room." Jehan raised his eyebrows as he drank the water. "Yesterday you passed out and this man, Combeferre I think, came to help you. He said you were fine, just needed to sleep and drink plenty of fluids. Then Enjolras..."

_Enjolras_

Small fragments of last nigth came to his mind. He stumbling with the lawyer, his uncontrollable babbling and the strange expression on Enjolras's face... What the fuck had he said to him?

_I’m so in love with Grantaire. I know, Grantaire, y’r boyfriend._

"Oh, no..."

"What?"

"Oh, no!" Jehan covered his face with both hands; he'd just remembered something: Enjolras's firm and clear voice saying "Jehan's here" to Grantaire, who was on the other side of the line.

He could feel the color escaping from his cheeks, almost to the point of fainting again. Cosette knelt before him and took his hands away from his face to meet his eyes.

"What, what happened?"

"I think... Oh my god, what was I thinking? He's going to hate me! No... It can't be... I'm an idiot, how could I-?"

"Jehan, look at me. What happened, what did you do?"

"I told Enjolras- oh god, I told him I'm in love with Grantaire." Cosette covered her mouth. "I'm an idiot. Enjolras told him, I'm sure. Grantaire's gonna hate me, I can't come back to that class, I can't..."

In one swift motion, the blonde sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him; Jehan couldn't stop shaking.

 

* * *

 

Jehan took several days to gather strength to return to school. He felt incredibly stupid for what happened and could only imagine the hate in Grantaire's eyes. How could he've been so stupid to believe he-? Jehan made a face when he felt his shirt touching the wounds he had on his arms. They'd stopped bleeding, but the fabric of his shirt was still bothering him.

He checked his watch and realized art class had just finished. Looking around he sought somewhere else to go, somewhere he could hide, and ended up in a broom closet. Outside the door, he could hear laughter and the hall filled with people moving towards their next class. And then, a familiar voice reached Jehan's ears.

"Feuilly, wait!" Grantaire was panting a little. "Hey, you know something-?"

"No, Grantaire, I told you. I haven't seen Jean Prouvaire in days. If I see him, I'll let you know, okay?" Jehan clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the scream of surprise when he heard his name.

"Where the hell is he?"

"Can I ask you something?" Feuilly interrupted.  "What's the deal between you and the boy? Thought you were dating that lawyer, Enjolras."

"I _am_ dating Enjolras, I don't know what you mean."

"I mean you're very concerned about someone who's just a student."

"He's not... Well, he is, but..."

"Be careful, man, I'm serious. People might misunderstand everything... The boy could be expelled, and you'd lose your job."

"You said it, he's just another student."

Jehan sank into the closet floor and hugged his knees against his chest. He already knew it, but hearing it from Grantaire was different, it was real and painful. Very painful. He probably wanted him to stay away. Grantaire was where he should be and Jehan meant nothing to him.

 

* * *

 

The following week Jehan finally came to his literature class. Feuilly looked at him a little surprised but said nothing, just pressed something inside the pocket of his jacket and began the lesson. After the class, someone was waiting outside the room.

"Ah, I see you're back. Feuilly told me and-" Grantaire cleared his throat; Jehan said nothing. "Come on, I need to talk to you." Jehan frowned, about to tell the man to fuck off, but Grantaire looked at him sternly. "Now." The blond followed him while rubbing his hands; he'd begun to feel a tingle on the back of the left hand and couldn't make it stop.

Grantaire guided him to the art room and motioned him to enter after opening the door. Then he leaned in front of his desk, so there was nothing standing between him and Jehan. He crossed his arms over his chest and asked.

"Where were you? You missed a lot of classes. You can still save the year, but-"

"What?" Was he serious? He'd taken him there, after what had happened, to talk about his _grades_? He had to be kidding.

"You'll have to work hard, but you can do it. I'll help you."

There was something there that didn't fit. "Why do you care?"

"I care because we're friends and 'cause I know you can do a lot better than this, Jehan. I don't want you to ruin your life because of..." the teacher didn't finish the sentence.

"Because of _you_?" Jehan asked defiantly. "Enjolras told you everything, didn't he?"

Grantaire bit his lip. He moved away from the desk and put a hand on Jehan's shoulder; the touch was warm over the fabric of his shirt. The blond hadn't thought until now how much he needed the contact, he needed him to hug him, to hold him. But it was something he couldn't ask for. He swallowed hard when Grantaire gently rubbed his arm, trying to comfort him.

"Listen, I really am flattered you, uhm, feel that way about me, and I think is very cute..." He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "You know, if I wasn't dating Enjolras-"

"No." Jehan sobbed slightly. "Please, don't do this..."

Grantaire made a move as if to hug him, but just kept rubbing his arm. "I know how it feels to be in love with someone who can't love you back-"

"No, you don't. He does love you back." Grantaire took a step backwards and Jehan knew he'd guessed right. "How long did you have to wait for him?"

"A while..."

"Then go back to him. Don't worry about me, I'm just another student. In a few years, you won't have to see me again."

"No, Jehan, that's not-"

But it was too late, the boy had already left the room.

 

* * *

 

_As the days go on I wonder_  
 _"Will this ever end?"_  
 _I find it hard to keep control_  
 _when you're with your boyrfriend._  
 _I do not mind if all I am is_  
 _just a friend to you,_  
 _but all I want to know right now  
_ _is if you think about me too...?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Really, I didn't have much hope for this fanfic and you just showed me how wonderful you are. Thank you SO much... And I'm so sorry, my dear Jehan :(


End file.
